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January 1, 2018

Terre Voir 


First day of this 2018 year.

Out on walk in rain in wind in sun under grey blue white sky, dogs too happy to get cruddy and swim play in river unaware of the pragmatism of rinsing duty before home.

Freshened between the ears (that's me) good to see the usual stuff of the land in a new light, like old friends after some time apart (albeit just a day); identical just a little more aged but my eyes look at them differently. 


Cold cheeks wet hat and mittens (on the outer). Must get my dogs some meat as reserves empty, planning went unplanned. Walk to local shop, incentive to fetch some ‘warming’ fizz for myself.  

The timely debate furtively makes its entrance, alcohol or not?  Festive debauchery did not touch my lips so I feel un-guilty to enjoy a few bubbles today.  Lets not kid myself though, i must be experiencing some kind of moralistic debate within as I am not immune to the influence of social debates and their impact upon my thinking and behaving.  So yes I may feel a little guilty to fetch the bubbles today but i shall choose to enjoy a little guilty pleasure on this day and have no regret as nothing bad nothing that bad really is held in there.


Boof! it pops

the bubbles are more gentle than the rain and the fizz does warm the spirit as intended.

Timely listening

BBC radio 4 a short and sweet programme on the history of champagne and its progressive contemporaries.

Then here it comes, without warning, no prep, it just lands there on my ears and titillates some stuff i have been thinking about only very recently and some stuff I have been working on for some time now, decades really.


Helplessly i connect things everywhere most of them are obvious some of them less, contrast tension friction overlaps boundaries, anything that holds and unleashes energy a dynamic on various levels anything that poses enquiries and informs perspective and behaviour.


Anyway terroir, one of the many words I have forgotten until it sings to me from a distance and then suddenly I am brought closer to the roots I tried to detach from so many years ago but really just tried to hold not so tight in my own way.  

French is my mother tongue but you see I do not speak it regularly and have not done for decades now and so the finite colloquialism that makes a language a second skin has disappeared in the main, hidden in one of the drawers of the mind really.


So I listen to these French guys, some of whom speak no English at all, sharing the input of the terroir the manner in which it is considered by the champagne contemporaries.  Unleashed magic from combined earthly goodness human respect informed observer grateful understanding and response from mind heart and hands of the growers the viticulteurs and all of what and whom is involved in this progressive process.

Work with the terroir and allow its goodness to explode in ways breaking boundaries past and present.


There it is, what I have been naming the environmental DNA I work with surface design and in sculpture.  Observe listen feel think surrender to it all focus be open to consider associate, respect and let it be to tell a story with fizz and bubbles or tears and rain or both, a story that feeds more experiences and will let other stories unravel.





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